


Tiny Angels

by LittleMissCactus



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood, Childhood Memories, Featuring my god-awful sindarin and quenya, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnap Dads, Multi, Poor Elrond, Trauma, he just can't catch a break
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22950841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissCactus/pseuds/LittleMissCactus
Summary: Elrond never thought that raising children of his own would cause quite so many age-old memories to resurface.(I've only read The Silmarillion once, so please forgive any inaccuracies. I did my best to keep it accurate, though!)
Relationships: Celebrían/Elrond Peredhel (mentioned), Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo (mentioned)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 83





	1. Lullaby

Elrond huddled closer to Elros under their shared blanket as he heard voices outside of the tent they had been told to sleep in. Neither knew where they were being taken or what had even happened, and despite their small stature, both were prepared to fight to defend the other if needed.

When Elrond saw a shadow move to open the door to the tent, he tightened his grip on his brother and glared at the entrance. The dark-haired Elf who had first found them raised his hands in surrender as he stepped towards the bed.

“You need not be afraid. I am not going to harm you,” he said gently.

His words did nothing to appease either of the twins, though, and they continued to stare at him in silence until Elros finally spoke up.

“What are you going to do with us?” he asked, struggling to prevent his voice from wavering.

The Elf sighed and slowly lowered his hands, though he still kept his distance from the Elflings. “If I am being honest, I really have no idea. Neither of us expected to find two little Elflings in Sirion, much less take them with us.”

“Then why not release us?” Elrond demanded, feeling bolder than perhaps he should have.

The Elf just laughed a little and shook his head. “As much as I do not doubt either of your courage, there are many evils on Arda that neither you nor your brother could defend yourselves against. Unless either of you feel confident in slaying a balrog should you be ambushed?”

Elrond fell silent, but did not lessen his glare. For several long minutes, no one spoke and silence lay thickly over them until it was near suffocating. Eventually, Elros spoke up.

“Who are you, anyways?”

The Elf smiled, relieved at the change in direction. “I am Maglor, son of Fëanor.” Had Elrond known better, he might have detected the slightest flinch as he confessed to his father's name. But of course, it meant nothing to either of the boys. They were both too young then to know of his father's cruel acts.

“And who is the angry one?”

“Elros!” Elrond's heart stopped as he scolded his brother, terrified that he would offend Maglor.

“No, it is quite alright,” Maglor laughed, though his eyes were sad, “It is the truth. He is rarely happy, and shows it even less. That is Maedhros, my older brother.”

“Oh. Is he upset because he only has one hand?”

“ _Elros!_ ” Elrond looked at Maglor nervously to see if he was angry. To his relief, he was not, but he was not laughing anymore either.

“No, it is for... another reason. But it is not my place to say anything more.” Maglor fell silent and glanced away, then smiled again after a moment. “He seems angry, but I promise that he is just a bit disgruntled. He really does mean well, and he will not hurt you.”

“He is still scary...” Elros mumbled, yelping when Elrond elbowed him.

“He can be before you get to know him,” Maglor agreed good-naturedly, “But it is late. You must both be tired. You should try to sleep.”

Neither of the twins responded, but they both knew that they would not be getting any sleep that night. Not after all that they had seen. Still, Elros did his best to curl up next to Elrond and closed his eyes. Maglor, immediately sensing the problem, took a step towards them, then stopped.

“May I?” he asked softly.

Elrond and Elros exchanged a look, then reluctantly nodded. Maglor smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets up to the boys' chins. “If I may, I would like to try singing you a song that always helped me to fall asleep as a child.”

“I suppose...” Elrond said reluctantly, still clinging to Elros's hand under the blankets.

Maglor smiled and bowed his head in gratitude before closing his eyes and beginning to sing, his voice filling the tent like a cool mist. “ _Lóre, melin er mime, lissi lapse mime, lauca ar vana lótesse tye linwe_...”

Despite Elrond's fear, as he heard Maglor's soft voice, he found that he could not stop his eyelids from growing heavy and fluttering shut. The last thing that Elrond was aware of before drifting off to sleep was Maglor whispering a soft 'sweet dreams' to them and silently leaving the tent.

*** ***

“But Ada, why do we have to go to bed now? We are nearly grown!” Elladan whined as he crawled into bed, exchanging an irritated look with his brother.

“By the Valar, Elladan, be quiet. You will wake Arwen if you are not careful,” Elrond scolded, though both Elladan and Elrohir could see that his eyes were smiling. They reminded him far too much of he and Elros when they were youths. “Anyways, I am not asking you to go to bed with the sun. But you are both expected at a diplomatic meeting tomorrow morning and I will not have my sons looking like wraiths from lack of sleep.”

The two boys looked at each other silently and bowed their heads. Elrond sighed. He knew that they were too proud to admit it, but he could tell that they were nervous. This was going to be their first time going into the world as grown Elves, after all. He could hardly blame them.

“Ada?” a little voice called from the doorway. Elrond groaned silently. Of course she woke up.

“Arwen, what are you doing up, _guren vell_?” Elrond picked the little Elfling up and held her to his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder instinctively and yawned.

“I heard people speaking angrily and I was frightened...”

“Now, now. No one is angry. Your brothers were just going to bed,” Elrond assured, rubbing slow circles on her back and sitting down at the foot of Elrohir's bed. The two boys looked down guiltily and muttered apologies to both Arwen and their father. As frustrated as Elrond was by the entire situation, he suddenly realized that Arwen waking up provided a unique opportunity to give the twins some reassurance without them getting embarrassed.

“It is quite alright. Just try to settle down now, alright?” Elrond turned to Arwen. “Now, what say you to a little song to help you to fall back asleep?”

“Yes! Yes, please, Ada!” Arwen cheered, hugging Elrond's neck. Elrond smiled and pretended not to notice the way the twins' eyes lit up at the prospect of being sung to sleep like when they were children.

“Very well. But you must close your eyes and be very still.” Elrond ran his fingers through his daughter's hair as she obeyed and buried her face into the crook of his neck and clung to him with all of the strength she had in her tiny body. He passed a fleeting glance over to Elladan and Elrohir, who were watching him intently, but quickly tried to look uninterested when they saw him looking at them. Still, they could not help but melt into the pillows as they heard their father's familiar voice float through the air.

“ _Lóre, melin er mime, lissi lapse mime, lauca ar vana lótesse tye linwe_...”

The language was long-since dead, but Elrond had ensured that all of his children learned to speak it anyways. It was the least that he could do... He quickly shook his head and continued to sing, stopping only when he was certain that all three were fast asleep. Still cradling Arwen in his arms, he gently pulled the blankets on both of the twins' beds up to their chins before carrying his youngest back to her own bedroom and tucking her in as well.

“Sweet dreams, _iell-nín_ ,” Elrond murmured before straightening up again and leaving the room as silently as he could manage. Celebrían asked why he was smiling so much as he arrived in their bedroom, but he just shook his head and laid next to her.

“Some things never change.”


	2. The Star of Fëanor

Elrond rested his chin on his hands as he sat cross-legged at Maglor's feet, watching calloused hands pluck at the strings of a small harp with practised ease. He and Elros had been living with the sons of Fëanor for nearly a year now and, slowly, they were coming to feel a bit more at ease. Maglor in particular seemed to know how to make sure that the twins felt safe and always had their needs attended to. Although Elrond was still somewhat wary, Elros had taken a shine to Maglor much more quickly and was resting his head on the Elf's knee and humming along to the soft melody of the harp.

Elrond eventually stood up, huffing in frustration when a gust of wind blew his hair into his face and blocked his vision. He had tried to braid his hair that morning to keep it back, but his fingers were still young and clumsy, so it had fallen out easily with the suddenness of his movement. He grumbled in a mixture of irritation and embarrassment and quietly excused himself to fix it.

As he stood in front of the hall mirror, though, his fingers only got more tangled in his hair and he groaned, trying desperately to remember the way his mother used to do it when she would braid his hair before...

“Elrond?”

Elrond nearly fell over and his hands dropped the warped braid when he heard a gruff voice behind him. He whirled around and saw Maedhros standing in the doorway, his face still as stern as ever but his eyes holding something that might have resembled mirth in a past life. Absently, it occurred to Elrond that this was the first time Maedhros had ever spoken to either him or his twin directly.

“Is something wrong, _hér-nya_?” Elrond asked worriedly, wondering if he had done something to upset Maedhros. Why else would he be approaching him but to scold him?

Maedhros simply shook his head and stepped inside. “No, nothing is wrong. I just... ah...” he coughed, glancing down at the ground sheepishly, “I noticed that you had trouble with your hair. I could help you in braiding it, if you wish it. You are not obligated to accept, though.”

Elrond stared at Maedhros for a moment, startled into silence. Eventually, he found his voice and spoke without thinking. “You wish to braid my hair? But what of your-” He stopped himself as soon as he realized what he was saying, but it was too late. Maedhros did not seem offended, though. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly in amusement as he raised his bad arm.

“What of my hand, you mean? It has been missing from me for some centuries now. I have learned to get by without it. That includes maintaining my hair.”

Elrond nodded meekly. “Forgive me, I meant no disrespect.” In spite of Maedhros's reassurances, he was still terrified of him. He knew in his heart that Maglor was just as much of a soldier as Maedhros, but somehow, Maglor maintained more of a comforting presence than Maedhros's foreboding aura.

Maedhros, quickly realizing this, ducked his head briefly in sympathy. “I am not offended. Even if hearing that comment is perhaps the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” he said dryly, and Elrond was alarmed to realize that he had made a _joke_. Even more alarming was that Elrond found himself laughing at it, and that Maedhros let a small puff of air through his nose in his own shadow of a laugh.

“Well... if you wish to braid my hair, I would be honoured to accept,” Elrond said at length, still smiling. Maedhros nodded and gestured for Elrond to turn around.

“Watch me in the mirror. You will learn better that way.”

Elrond obeyed and watched Maedhros's movements in awe, amazed by the grace with which he worked even with only one hand in use. He found himself mesmerized by each intricate twirl and twist made in his hair and was almost sorry when Maedhros finally finished and stepped back with a nod of satisfaction.

“It looks incredible...” Elrond breathed, reaching up to touch the braid delicately.

“Ah, but it is missing something.” Maedhros reached into his own hair and removed a small clasp adorned with an eight-pointed star made from silver. With all of the tenderness of a mother cradling her baby, he used the clasp to secure the braid, then allowed a fleeting smile to grace his lips. “Now it is perfect.”

Elrond took the end of the braid in his hand and stared at the clasp, then smiled up at Maedhros and, feeling brave, threw his arms around his leg and hugged it tightly. Maedhros tensed for a moment, startled by the sudden show of affection, but eventually relaxed and wrapped his arms around the little Elfling in return.

“Thank you, _hér-nya_ ,” Elrond murmured, looking up at Maedhros even as he embraced him.

“There is no need to call me that, Elrond.” Maedhros placed his hand on the top of Elrond's head tenderly.

“Then what shall I call you?” Elrond cocked his head to the side and, as uncertain as he still was, Maedhros's heart melted despite himself.

“You may call me whatever you wish, I suppose. I have no preference.”

“Oh. May I call you Ada, then?”

Maedhros froze for a moment and found that when he opened his mouth to respond, no sound came out. Eventually, he managed to choke out, “Yes. Yes, you may call me that, if you so desire.”

Elrond nodded and reached up to take Maedhros's stump in his hands, squeezing it affectionately. “Thank you, Ada. Do you... do you think that you could braid my hair tomorrow too?”

Maedhros knelt next to Elrond so that their eyes were level and placed his hand on Elrond's shoulder. “It would be my honour.”

*** ***

“Ada, may I ask you a question?” Elladan asked as he watched Elrond braid Arwen's hair the same way he did every morning, and the same way that he braided Elladan and Elrohir's hair when they were small.

In the back of Elrond's mind, he could hear Maglor's voice quip: “You just did”. He shook his head with a sad smile and pushed it aside, though.

“Of course. What is it?”

“Why do you always braid with one hand?”

Elrond blinked in surprise and looked down at his hands. Sure enough, his right hand was balled into a fist and his left hand was the one doing the actual braiding. “Oh. I never noticed that before. I suppose that it was just the way I was taught.”

“Everyone thinks that it is odd,” Elrohir laughed, “Especially since your right hand is your dominant one.”

“It is rather odd, I suppose,” Elrond agreed, smiling, “But tell me, who says such things?”

“Oh, everyone. Even Nana thinks so,” Elladan teased.

“Does she, now? Well, I suppose that I am lucky that she agreed to marry me in spite of my oddness. There, now, Arwen. All finished.”

Arwen, who was getting quite restless from sitting still for so long, sprang to her feet with a wide smile. “Can I go and play now, Ada?”

“Of course. Just be safe, alright?”

“I will!” Arwen promised as she ran off to catch up with her brothers, who were already waiting outside.

Elrond watched her disappear with a soft sigh, leaning back in his chair and unconsciously reaching to touch his own braid. She was growing up so quickly. He smiled down at the braid in his hand and ran his thumb over the silver star on the clasp binding the end. He squeezed it in his hand, then muttered a soft prayer to Mandos for Maedhros's sake and rose to his feet. He could not spend all morning reminiscing.


	3. Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for referenced self-harm and suicide ideation  
> Also, it occurred to me that the song that this fic is named after isn't famous enough for most people to recognize, so here's the song that inspired this fic. Yes, it's a Christmas song. Hush. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKTBk_-lUwY

Elrond was eleven years old the first time he saw Maedhros cry.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, really, he hadn't. He was just going to wish Maglor goodnight when he saw that Maedhros was in his bedroom as well. Not wanting to interrupt, he stood outside and waited, but their voices carried. 

"Maedhros, please... you cannot keep doing this to yourself."

Maedhros barked out a bitter laugh. "And why not? What does it matter? It is my fault that he isn't here anymore."

"You had no way of knowing what would happen. And even if you did, this is _not_ the solution." Elrond could tell that Maglor was trying to keep his voice calm, but there was a tremor to it that he recognized from nights when Elrond went to get water from the kitchen and saw Maglor on the balcony, staring into the distance.

"You don't know what it's like. Maglor, you know about the dreams that I've had. I've... I've started to welcome them. I _want_ to fall."

"Maedhros, don't you dare talk like that. You know fully well that-" 

Their voices cut off and Elrond heard a clatter of metal and a drawer slamming shut as he pushed the door open a crack. "Ada? Atya?" he called meekly.

Maedhros was sitting on the bed with his back facing the door. Maglor walked briskly to where Elrond was standing and knelt next to him, drawing him into his arms. "Come along, Elrond. Let's get you to bed."

"What's the matter with Ada? You sounded angry with him..."

"I'm..." Maglor sighed and kissed Elrond's temple gently as he carried him to where Elros was already fast asleep. "It's a grown-up problem. Nothing for you to concern yourself with, dear heart. But everything will be alright. I promise."

Elrond considered this as Maglor lowered him onto the bed and brought the blankets up around him. "Atya?" he said at length.

"Yes?"

"Do you think Ada would feel better if I gave him a hug?"

Maglor's breath hitched and it looked like he might cry, and for a moment, Elrond thought that he had made a mistake and was ready to apologize when Maglor spoke.

"It wouldn't fix the problem, but I think that he would very much appreciate it, yes."

Elrond nodded and drew his knees to his chest. "I love him. And I love you too. I don't want either of you to be sad."

Now tears _did_ shine in Maglor's eyes. "I know, darling." He paused, then sat on the edge of the bed and took Elrond's hands in his. "Elrond, you have a very kind heart. Not everyone is like that in this world, but I want you to promise me that no matter what may happen, no matter what anyone does to you, you will never lose that kindness. The world needs more people like you."

Elrond wasn't quite sure what Maglor meant. He had already lost his birth family. How much worse could possibly happen? But he nodded anyways. "I promise, Atya."

Maglor smiled and squeezed Elrond's hands before letting them go. "I'll go tell Maedhros you want to talk to him. You wait here, alright?"

Elrond stared down at his hands and bit his lip. What if Maglor was wrong and Maedhros just wanted to be left alone? But sure enough, after a few minutes, Maedhros's tall frame appeared in the doorway.

"Maglor says you wanted to talk to me, little star?" He looked exhausted and his eyes were reddened from crying. Elrond nodded and got out of bed silently, padded over to where Maedhros was standing, and wrapped his arms around him as tightly as he could.

Maedhros stiffened for a moment and stared at Elrond, then knelt next to him and pulled him into a near-crushing embrace. Elrond tried to speak, but found himself choking on a sob. "I wanted... I saw... you were sad... and I..."

"Oh, Elrond... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Maedhros rubbed slow circles on Elrond's back even as Elrond felt wet spots forming on his shoulder. "Everything will be alright. I promise. I just... had a bad day. But you reminded me why I get through bad days."

"Why is that?" Elrond whispered hoarsely.

Maedhros drew back and his eyes were glistening with tears. "For you. For your brother. For Maglor. For... for our family. Because even bad days end, and at the end of it, we can all be happy together."

"Atya is worried about you," Elrond mumbled.

Maedhros winced. "I know."

"I'm worried about you too."

Maedhros sighed and wiped Elrond's tears away with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I made you worry. I promise, I'm okay."

"I love you, Ada."

Despite himself, Maedhros smiled weakly. "I love you too, Elrond."

They stayed like that for several minutes, then Maedhros scooped Elrond into his arms and began to tell him stories about faraway places and trees of light until Elrond eventually drifted off to sleep. Everything was okay. He wouldn't lose his Ada. Not this one.

*** ***

Elrond's stomach twisted as he leaned against the lattice window and looked outside. The sun felt too bright, too warm, and it burned the icy dread that had crept into his lungs. No matter how many years went by, this day never got any easier. He could remember like it was yesterday when he learned what Maedhros had done. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye. For the first few years, he'd tried in vain to at least find his Atya and bring him home, but he eventually gave up and realized despairingly that Maglor would only be found if he _wanted_ to be found. 

At first, he had felt angry with them for abandoning him - for abandoning _them_ \- and wondered if that betrayal was what caused Elros to... No, he couldn't think about him today. It would be too much grief to bear.

"Ada?" a small voice said from the doorway. Elrond quickly wiped his tears away and looked over his shoulder with a forced smile.

"Good morning, Arwen. Do you need something?"

"Were you crying, Ada?" Arwen padded over to him and wrapped her arms around him, silently asking to be picked up. Elrond complied and held Arwen close to his chest, rocking her in his arms for his own comfort as much as hers.

"I... yes, I was. But it's okay. I'll be alright, little one."

"What's wrong? Can I help?"

Elrond smiled despite himself at Arwen's earnestness. "I'm afraid not. I... I'm just feeling sad today. Have you ever had days where you felt sad?"

Arwen nodded. "But you and Nana being there helps. Why are you sad, Ada?"

Elrond looked away and sighed. He wasn't getting out of this, was he? "Well... you see, today is the anniversary of when my Ada died," he said at length, deliberately omitting the more pointedly traumatic parts of it.

"Oh." Arwen's face was grave, but not horrified, and Elrond internally sighed in relief that he hadn't upset her too badly. "Is this the one that Nana Nananin hates?"

Elrond choked back a laugh at Arwen's childish bluntness. "Yes, your grandmother didn't like my adoptive fathers. But I loved them. They saved your uncle and I's lives."

Arwen frowned and hugged Elrond again. "Well, I'll get to meet your fathers in Valinor someday, right? I'll bet I'll like them. I trust you, and I know you wouldn't love anyone mean."

Elrond paused, pain biting at his chest as he envisioned Maglor walking alone along the shores of Middle Earth. Maybe it was time he started the search for him again. The reason why he was so angry at first was because he had abandoned them, but now Elrond was abandoning Maglor by giving up on him, wasn't he? He made a mental note to talk to Celebrían about it later. In the meantime, he turned back to Arwen with a soft smile. "Yes. You'll meet them one day."


End file.
